Dear Readers,

I have not written in a long time. I bought a house in June (for the first time) and it is taking much longer than I thought to get settled and to get things done.

I have been in Washington state for just over a year and I am learning a lot about the differences between Washington and my native California. One of the things I am learning about is the nature of grass roots.

Like many of you, I have heard the expression “grassroots,” as in “grassroots organizing” or “grassroots movement” to indicate organizations built slowly by engaging and connecting individual persons for a purpose.

Now, however, I am beginning to have a visceral understanding of grass roots as I work in my weedy, neglected yards.

There are different kinds of grass, of course, and different kinds of grassy weeds as well. I have not had much experience working with grass because my mother did not want grass in her yard: she filled the front yard with lava rock and the backyard remained soft dirt until she put in one flagstone area, a dwarf apple tree and a few iris beds. When I did not live at my mother’s house, I lived in rentals, some without yards. In my last California rental, I struck a deal with the landlord: he would maintain the lawn in the front yard while I concentrated on growing organic fruit and vegetables in the back.

I have many types of grass. One sends forth thin, wiry blades. Another puts up lush green blades that we think of as grass, but it tends to grow in clumps. To break apart the clumps, I tease the blades apart to see which way they are growing and pull in that direction.

Some of the green blades pull out that way, as do some of the dead or yellowed pieces. But we are not done: close to the surface, or right under the surface, are mats of thick roots in short pieces. Some of them have a hard bit like a knot on the upper end. Sometimes I can pull these out with a lot of effort, but sometimes I cannot get purchase on them (I do this with my bare fingers, which help tease out the direction each strand grows in).

I work away at the most stubborn clumps, prising one piece after another out of the ground. Then I notice that some of these hardy clumps are bound with two other kinds of roots: one is thready and fine, light in color and the others look like classic drawings of roots in soil, indistinguishable in color from the surrounding soil, branching, no thicker than a human hair. Sometimes I can reach beneath a stubborn piece of grass and feel a u-shaped band of roots below the surface. When I yank that loose, sometimes the stubborn bit will come free at last.

And sometimes not.

I pull at the light-colored thready roots one by one, hoping to loosen them. Sometimes I am rewarded when a long root rips out of the ground, traveling several inches from where I have been working and loosening the edge of another clump.

There are also mats of the finest “classic roots,” which look delicate, but are nearly impenetrable and strongly bound together. And that is not all: should I dig a hole, as I do when I am going after a dandelion tap root, I will find the light colored grass roots threading themselves through the soil in all directions, moving laterally, penetrating deeply. If I am to ever be rid of weedy grasses I must get them all out.

So, grass roots: stubborn, persistent, interlocked, strong, hard to break apart without the utmost care and patience. And, did I mention, if you leave even a bit of one of these roots in the soil, the grass will regrow.

Take courage, my friends and countrymen. The No Kings rallies take place this Saturday in the United States, in Canada, and in other sympathetic nations. Those of us who support democracy, due process, the rule of law and the U.S. Constitution are legion. We are strong, powerful, tenacious, especially when we spread by word of mouth and weave ourselves together like grass roots.